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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29600022">Twin Flames</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissyJAnne85/pseuds/MissyJAnne85'>MissyJAnne85</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>BAMF Hermione Granger, F/M, Harry Potter AU, Inspired by Ever After (1998), Inspired by Harry Potter, Litha, Midsummer, Neo-Paganism, POV Regulus Black, Rituals, Romance, Silent Magic (Harry Potter), Tag(line)2021, The Sacred Twenty-Eight (Harry Potter), Wandless Magic (Harry Potter), Wheel of the Year, Wicca</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:14:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,967</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29600022</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissyJAnne85/pseuds/MissyJAnne85</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Walburga Black has hijacked the annual Midsummer Solstice Celebration and it is anticipated that her husband will choose a suitable pureblood bride for their son during the festivities. The only question is, will Regulus Black willingly marry to fulfil his familial obligations? </p><p>***For Tag(line)2021***</p><p>*** Directors Choice ***</p><p>Film: Ever After: A Cinderella Story - Deny. Desire. Escape.</p><p>Author Notes:<br/>This is an AU that takes place in the 15th Century - for the sake of the story please assume Regulus and Hermione are both born in the same year, thus making them a few months apart in age (Regulus being slightly older).</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Regulus Black/Hermione Granger</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>114</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Tag(line) You're It! Competition</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Twin Flames</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">



        <li>In response to a prompt by
            Anonymous in the <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Tagline_Youre_It_Comp_2020">Tagline_Youre_It_Comp_2020</a>
          collection.
        </li>
    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <strong>
      <span class="u">November, 1510</span>
    </strong>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
Regulus sat next to Kreacher on the floor. Their backs were pressed against the door to his room as they listened in silent comradery to the sound of familiar screaming.</p><p>“Are you insane?! Wait – don’t answer that! Of <em>course</em>you are! You’d have to be <em>bloody insane</em>if you think I’m going to get married now! I don’t <em>want</em>to marry some stuck up, pureblood hag! I’m only <em>seventeen!</em>” </p><p>Suddenly there was a thud and a smash indicating something had broken —  possibly glass or porcelain. Regulus and Kreacher shared a knowing glance.</p><p>“What do you think she broke this time, Kreacher?” </p><p> Kreacher was twisting his pillowcase with nerves, but the behaviour went no further. Regulus had made his wishes clear —  the house-elf was not to punish himself when they were alone. </p><p>“Kreacher thinks it be Articus Black’s betrothal gift to his young bride Irma Crabbe.” Despite the sounds of violence, Kreacher’s eyes were alight with dreamy reverence and devotion. The Black Family ancestry was one of Kreacher’s favourite topics. He turned to Regulus and whispered with wicked mirth, “Mistress Walburga never liked her much…young Master Regulus need not worry. ‘Tis not such a terrible loss.”</p><p>Regulus sighed in relief. He crossed his fingers and silently prayed to the gods that this fight would end swiftly with minimal fallout. The screaming continued.</p><p>“You are a <em>disgrace!</em>You are an <em>embarrassment!</em>If you cannot fathom your responsibilities, you shall remain housebound until you do!”</p><p>“Housebound? <em>Housebound</em>?! I shall do no such thing! <em>I am of age!</em>I am not some bloody <em>house-elf</em>that you can order around!”</p><p>“<em>Exactly!</em> You are of age, therefore you shall play your part! You are to marry Alecto Carrow! Your father and I are blessed to even have such an offer, considering your <em>appalling</em> behaviour and the <em>filth</em> you surround yourself with! <em>No more!</em> <em>Toujours Pur!</em>You were born to <em>privilege</em> and with that comes <em>specific</em> <em>obligations!</em>”</p><p>Regulus turned to Kreacher in terror and whispered, “What if he says no?” </p><p>Sirius wouldn’t leave. Sirius<em>couldn’t</em>leave. They had made promises, they had sworn oaths —  not magical ones, of course —  but oaths as brothers. They would never leave each other alone. Not with <em>her</em>. Regulus held his breath and reached out to grip Kreacher hand.</p><p>“Are you even <em>listening</em> to yourself?! You honestly think that I will willingly marry <em>her</em>to fulfil my<em>familial obligations</em>?!”</p><p>“SIRIUS BLACK!”</p><p>“ENOUGH! SHUT UP, FOR MERLIN’S SAKE JUST <em>SHUT UP</em>! ALL THIS ‘PUREBLOOD’ PROPAGANDA – IT’S <em>HORSESHIT</em>–”</p><p>“YOU <em>DARE</em>SPEAK SUCH <em>BLASPHEMY</em>—”</p><p>“ —IT’S <em>ARCHAIC!</em>”</p><p>“ —TO YOUR OWN <em>MOTHER </em>—”<br/>
<br/>
“ —IT’ <em>S OPPRESSIVE!</em>”<br/>
<br/>
“—IN THE HOUSE OF MY <em>FATHERS</em>?!”</p><p>“<em>THEN</em> <em>DISOWN</em> <em>ME! JUST</em>DISOWN<em>ME!</em>”</p><p>There was another smash and everything was deadly silent. Was the fight over?  </p><p>No. Sirius was speaking again and as Regulus absorbed his brother’s words, tears fell silently down his cheeks. </p><p>“You know what...you don’t need to disown me, I’ll disown myself. <em>I want out!</em>I disown <em>you</em>and this <em>entire family!</em>As for Regulus...just know the day he comes of age I’ll be praying you lose him too! <em>I hope you die alone!</em>”</p><p>The familiar crack of apparition echoed in the air before an empty silence took over.</p><p>Regulus imagined his mother going upstairs to blast Sirius’ name from the family tree - and then the full impact of what just happened suddenly clicked into place.</p><p>Sirius had blasted himself from the tree...he wasn’t coming back.</p><p>Distantly, Regulus was aware that Kreacher was squeezing his hand - an attempt at comfort or reassurance - yet, Regulus couldn't stop shaking.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p><em><strong><span class="u">June 1512</span></strong></em>  </p><p>The family was eating supper together in the dining room and despite Kreacher cooking his favourite meal, everything tasted of ash. His mother’s excitement was palpable regarding the events of tomorrow. Regulus set his cutlery aside with an impeccable grace drilled into him from years of deportment lessons. He carefully lifted his goblet with a steady hand and swallowed a large, yet appropriate mouthful of wine. </p><p>“Oh, Orion! It will be so <em>marvellous!</em>Regulus is by <em>far</em>the most eligible bachelor.” Walburga’s voice bordered on becoming shrill in her excitement.</p><p>His father said nothing, but a small indulgent smile graced his face as he listened to his wife's endless prattle. The ostentatious signet ring his father wore glinted in the candlelight. Regulus suppressed a shudder and quickly shifted his gaze away from the family crest.</p><p>“You <em>will</em>make time to mingle won’t you, Orion? I would hate for us to be aligned with someone, shall we say - <em>less</em>? We do have <em>standards</em>after all.”</p><p>Orion arched his brow and smirked at his wife. “Do you <em>really</em>think, dearest wife, that after <em>all</em>we have suffered — I would align our family with the <em>Goyles</em>? We are once again <em>desired</em>. I anticipate many conversations and I intend to indulge any who make our family an offer… that doesn’t mean I will accept.”</p><p>Walburga giggled in delight and Regulus produced a wry smile. The conversation swirled around him, though it ceased to include him. </p><p>The pressure of tomorrow… the responsibility and expectations… his mother could never <em>know</em>that internally he was close to falling apart. </p><p>He swallowed another mouthful of wine, placed the goblet on the table and pressed his napkin to his lips. </p><p>The families of the Sacred Twenty Eight were coming together tomorrow to celebrate The Summer Solstice. </p><p><em>Litha</em>. </p><p>His mother had hijacked the Sabbat by reminding the families that Regulus was coming of age four days <em>after</em>the Solstice and therefore it <em>made sense</em>for her to combine both celebrations and host the annual event at Black Estate. </p><p>No one was brave enough to suggest otherwise. </p><p>Walburga was pleased. </p><p>It was anticipated that Orion Black would choose a suitable pureblood bride for his son during the course of the festivities. Paterfamilias with eligible daughters would attend, ready to impress their hosts in hopes of winning a marriage contract. Solidifying family alliance was at the forefront of everyone’s mind. </p><p>Regulus was well aware of his parents’ agenda. Within a week his engagement would be announced, and within a month he would marry. He would be lucky if he was to find love within the relationship forced upon him.  </p><p>But it was the way things were always done. </p><p>Regulus placed his napkin on the table and discretely concealed both hands out of sight. Beneath the table he scrunched the folds of his trousers and sent a silent prayer to Circe, <em>Goddess, please – let me stop shaking. Keep me safe. Keep me from falling apart…</em></p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Regulus was shaken awake pre-dawn by Kreacher. “Young Master Regulus, it be time. Young Master must dress and must be <em>quick</em>, yes he must. Time to get up. Time to witness the rising of the Sun.” </p><p>It was the day of the Sabbat. The longest day of the midsummer - Litha. </p><p>Once Regulus was fully dressed and fuelled with coffee, he quickly made his way down the stairs. Regulus carefully passed the saucers of milk left out for the Fae, a whispered <em>Lumos</em>provided him with enough light to guide his feet. He noticed the tasteful decorations Kreacher had placed around the manor whilst his family had been asleep. There were beautiful floral arrangements featuring festive blooms of the deepest reds and most vivid oranges. Traditional Suncatchers adorned the windows – every crystal had been cleansed and polished – ready to capture the light of the sun. Regulus smiled to himself with anticipation, he loved the magic of this time of year. Litha was his definition of <em>Toujours Pur -</em>it wasn’t about ‘purity of blood’, it was about ‘purity of light’… not that he could ever express that opinion to his parents.</p><p>Regulus made his way out and into the garden and headed towards the family sundial. He greeted his father and mother and together the three of them walked in silence to the highest peak on the family estate. Prior to breaking their fast, the area was to be cleansed. Orion would cast the Familial Circle that secured their ancient ancestral magic to the land. He walked the perimeter of the sacred space, his wand letting out a stream of vibrant colours – the colour of flames – it was a powerful spell, a silent spell. One that Regulus would learn once he came of age. </p><p>Once the Circle was cast, Regulus acknowledge and thanked each of the elements:</p><p>
  <em>I thank the Earth, I thank my bones, I cherish the land on which I plant both feet. </em>
  
</p><p>
  <em>I thank the Air, I thank my lungs, I cherish the oxygen I breathe and the wind that caresses my skin. </em>
  
</p><p>
  <em>I thank the Fire, I thank my internal spark of life, I cherish the light and brightness in which I see all things.</em>
  
</p><p>
  <em>I thank the Water, I thank my blood, I cherish the clouds, the rain and rivers from which I quench my thirst.</em>
  
</p><p>Whilst Regulus chanted, Walburga made an offering of Elven wine and honey, pouring it directly into a dug out patch of earth. She framed the well with a ring of tigers eye and malachite while softly murmuring:</p><p><em>God and Goddess accept these gifts on this most auspicious and blessed day. We thank thee and we honour thee,</em>Incendio<em>, so mote it be. </em></p><p> </p><p>Now that the family was settled within the circle, Walburga silently passed out dishes that Kreacher had prepared for them: pumpernickel bread smeared with honey, grilled peaches and nectarines, a summer vegetable medley of corn, summer squash and heirloom tomatoes. The food was light, bright, and inspired by the sun. It was shared and consumed in silent anticipation and reverence. The family washed down their meal with honey mead as the sun slowly began to rise. </p><p>Regulus slowed his breathing and focused on the warmth of the sun. All too soon the manor would become a hive of activity in preparation for the arrival of the other families. Instead of worrying, he tilted his head back and let himself be drenched in sunlight.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Regulus was drowning in a sea of faces. He was surrounded by familiarity, and yet he felt disconnected from everyone. The Carrows, the Goyles, the Crabbes, the Malfoys… all these “Sacred Pureblood Families”. He wanted nothing to do with them, though they wanted everything to do with him. <em>No, not me,</em>thought Regulus. <em>They want my name, they want an alliance.</em> </p><p>Nothing felt real. Nothing felt <em>honest</em>. </p><p>He needed to escape.</p><p>Blinded by panic, Regulus stumbled past a summerpole. He barely by-passed the young women who were dancing sunwise whilst holding on to their ribbons, weaving artfully amongst each other.</p><p>He passed the grandiose, blazing bonfire which radiated heat and was central to the solstice celebrations. In previous years, Regulus would have been awestruck at its lavish splendour and yet, for the first time, he felt a bitter sense of detachment. He felt cold. He felt disillusioned. He couldn’t unsee the pretentiousness of it all. </p><p>Regulus tried his best to block out the drunken chanting and songs of praise for the Oak and Holly King. The epic battle of the mighty Kings was indoctrinated</p><p>into every pureblood child. It was a part of the foundation for any who learned of the Wheel of the Year and the turning of the seasons. He ducked and weaved his way towards the kitchens in desperate search of Kreacher. </p><p>Kreacher would help him! He would know what to say and would remind Regulus of what was importa — </p><p>Regulus collided and crashed spectacularly into a tray full of mead. He fell to the floor in a tangle of limbs and his face flushed embarrassingly red as the serving woman beside him let out a string of curses so prolific his ears burned with sheer mortification. </p><p>“Circes saggy tits, Harry! I swear to <em>Merlin!</em> If you just knocked me over I will have you mopping up <em>all</em>this honey mead with your <em>hair!</em>And you’d better do it faster than you can say Sacred Inces—Oh, well… bollocks. It’s going to be one of those nights. Great.”</p><p>Regulus quickly rushed to his feet, offered his hand and glanced up at a pair of flashing amber eyes, sopping wet curls and a ruined catering gown. The dress was designed to blend into the background but it wouldn’t now. Regulus tried not to be miffed when the girl ignored his extended hand. She fixed her eyes on him and her expression alone had Regulus flushing and feeling incredibly stupid.</p><p>“Never mind me, you’re covered in <em>mead</em>. Didn’t you know? You look as <em>ridiculous</em>as I do.” Regulus fumbled to find his wand in order to cast a quick <em>Scourgify.</em>In the meantime, the serving girl flipped her mass of curls out of her face and got to her feet. “SEAMUS! WE NEED ANOTHER TRAY OF HONEY MEAD! <em>QUICK!</em>GO GET SOMEONE TO COVER FOR ME! MY HAIR IS AS <em>HORRID</em>AS A HIPPOGRIFF’S ARSE AND DON’T EVEN <em>ASK</em>ABOUT MY DRESS!”</p><p>Whilst screaming into the kitchen she waved her hand across the mess. Regulus stared in shock and disbelief. The tray and ten goblets were repaired, reorganised and summoned directly into the girl’s outstretched hand.</p><p>“HERMIONE?!” A woman called out from the kitchen. “WHAT IN GOD'S NAME JUST HAPPENED?!  DON’T JUST <em>STAND</em>THERE — YOU HEARD HER! WE NEED ANOTHER TRAY OF MEAD!” A dumpy-looking, grey-haired witch popped her head through the doorway that led into the bustling kitchen.</p><p>“Here, take these. I’ve been able to salvage them but this dress is <em>ruined</em>because that clumsy <em>oaf</em> knocked me over! Look, even a <em>Scourgify</em>won’t fix this mess.” The girl, Hermione, waved her hand over her dress and despite the dry fabric, she was right. The dress was utterly ruined… she was incapable of fading into the background now.</p><p>The dumpy witch shifted her gaze and suddenly she was white as a sheet. “Oh my Maiden, Mother, Crone…” she muttered, her face a mixture of dread and mortification. She continued to speak whilst accepting the tray and goblets. “My sincerest apologies, Master Black. <em>Hermione - for Circe’s sake, apologise immediately</em>. You do realise who you are standing in front of, don’t you?!”</p><p>“You just – your dress… and the goblets – all fixed <em>without a wand</em>?!” Regulus was aware that he was babbling but he couldn’t seem to construct a complete sentence. He was dumbfounded.</p><p>“Of course, she did! Hermione’s the brightest witch of our age!” Said a young man with a fresh tray of goblets, speaking with a thick Irish brogue. “Hah! Better take the rest of the night off, ‘Mione! I’ve seen hags with better looking hair than you!”</p><p>“You are <em>insufferable</em>, Seamus! Don’t spill anything! We could lose our pay. Or worse<em>,</em>get evicted!”</p><p>Seamus twirled back around with flourish and laughed at Hermione. “Only <em>you</em>would prioritise a visit to their <em>library</em>above getting paid. If <em>I</em>was you, and I’m not suggesting I am, mind, I’d think about losing the inbred and get <em>reading,</em>lassie! Tick Tock, messy witch! It may be the longest day, but it’s also the shortest night!” He sang over his shoulder as he sauntered off toward the crowd.</p><p>“...forgets I can still whip him, the half-wit,” Hermione muttered as she attempted to wring out her hair.  </p><p>“You’re not going to wave your hand over that too?” Regulus questioned her with a perplexed expression, “and which library was he talking about? Surely you don’t mean mine?!”</p><p>“Why are you still here?” Hermione shot back. She arched a brow as she squeezed the mead from her hair. It splattered the ground and she groaned in frustration. “Don’t you have a Solstice to celebrate? I suppose it’s too late to stun you…And of <em>course,</em>I’m not going to do that to my hair! You lot are <em>so</em>sheltered. I bet you couldn’t last a <em>day</em>without your house-elf.”</p><p>“Kreacher isn’t just a house-elf! He’s my <em>family</em>!”</p><p>“MOOOOVE IT! COMING THROUGH!” The dumpy woman had reappeared and behind her followed six catering servants carrying a whole roasted hog. </p><p>Regulus looked up at the sky, the sun was beginning to wane. His stomach rolled with nausea. A small hand shot out, grabbed his wrist and pulled him out of the way.</p><p>“Hermione, get the young Master some ginger tea. It looks like he’s about to lose whatever’s in his stomach!”</p><p>“Yes, Madam Sprout.” She dropped Regulus’ wrist and turned to face him. “Honestly, you think you’d <em>enjoy</em>causing catering accidents considering your <em>inability</em>to stay out of the <em>way</em>.” She gave him an evaluating look and sighed, “Let’s get you to the kitchen.”</p><p>“Are you always this rude?” Regulus fell into step quickly beside her. “And I <em>know</em>the way. You don’t need to ‘get me tea’ either, Kreacher can do that.”</p><p>Hermione snorted. “Kreacher is passed out, drunk and snoring. He is safely tucked into his nest and in his cupboard. I made sure of it.”</p><p>“He’s what?! How do you know where he sleeps? <em>How often have you been here?</em><em>”</em> </p><p>“Shhhh!” Hermione shushed Regulus as they walked into his kitchen. Once again she waved her hand and silently summoned a mug and a bundle of what smelt like sliced ginger. “Kreacher made these earlier, it was his last assigned task before he was ordered to let us use his kitchen. He muttered something about not trusting the ‘filthy mudbloods<em>’ </em>to make your brew… he seems to care for you very much, despite his <em>horrid</em>disposition.” </p><p>Regulus was truly flustered. He had never met another woman like her. He had <em>so</em>many questions which she continued to ignore while bossing him around. She was a puzzle he needed to solve. “I told you not to worry about the tea. And you still haven’t answered my questions – Are you performing both silent <em>and</em>wandless magic? How on earth is that even possible?!”</p><p>“Of <em>course,</em> it’s possible. You <em>just</em> saw me do it.” She locked her amber eyes onto his and Regulus recognised that he was in trouble. She was livid. “Why, Regulus Black? You tell me why you think my<em>magic</em> <em>is impossible?</em>”</p><p>“Umm…”</p><p>“Is it because I’m a woman?” </p><p>“No it’s— ”</p><p>“Is it because I don’t have the same <em>privilege</em>as you?!”</p><p>“Stop interrup— ”</p><p>“Is it because I’m a <em>‘filthy mudblood’</em>who is incapable of brewing you a <em>cup of ginger tea</em>!?” Her face was ruddy and she had started crying and her hair was sparking in fury and he was so sick of feeling confused.</p><p>“<em>I DON’T BLOODY KNOW!”</em>Regulus shouted in pure frustration. Shocked at his own uncouth behaviour, Regulus abruptly stopped speaking. Hermione looked shocked too, and for the first time, she wasn’t in a rush to fill the silence. Regulus took in a deep breath before speaking and suddenly he was baring his soul to a complete stranger. “To be perfectly honest, I’m not sure what to believe anymore… right now my father is finding our family the perfect bride. She will be meek and mild, subservient and ‘pure’…and yet — here I am standing in my kitchen bearing witness to the most incredible magic I have ever seen… no sound, no wand. Surely, magic as organic as that must be ‘pure’? I don’t even know if what I am saying makes sense…Simply <em>watching</em>your behaviour has me questioning… well... <em>everything.”</em> </p><p>She looked at him with careful consideration. He felt like he was being analysed, passing some exam that he hadn’t studied for. He was suddenly worried he’d fail. </p><p>“You can call me by my name, you know? I know you know what it is…”</p><p>“Certainly, Miss Hermione.”</p><p>“Not ‘Miss Hermione’” She corrected, “just ‘Hermione’....That’s how my friends address me… and if you like, I can show you more.”</p><p>Regulus tilted his head in confusion “More what?”</p><p>He held his breath as Hermione smiled and leant in toward him. </p><p>“More magic,” she whispered.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Regulus was gasping for air, his arm wrapped around his side as he tried to breathe through his stitch. He turned his head to look at Hermione who was doing the same. Both had escaped the confines of Black Estate and were now on the outskirts of the property.  </p><p>In the distance, he could still see the flaming bonfire, but it was close to dusk and the stars were beginning to emerge. For the first time, Regulus wasn’t concerned that he was missing from the Solstice celebrations — he burned with curiosity to witness the magic Hermione had offered to demonstrate.</p><p>“Do you honestly expect me to believe that you willingly worked as a caterer during every Sabbat held by the families of the Sacred Twenty Eight… and that your sole motivation for doing so was to access all of our libraries?”</p><p>“Yes.” </p><p>“And you’ve been doing this since the age of <em>eleven</em>?”</p><p>“Again, yes. Is that honestly so hard to believe? By the time you’ve all been fed and fuelled with mead, there’s a lot of downtime between clean up...”</p><p>“Hours,” Regulus agreed. He’d want a book to read if he were in her position.</p><p>Hermione stood up straight and stretched her arms to the sky. “You know what? Everyone I’ve ever met prior to meeting you has called me an ‘insufferable know-it-all’. I think you also might be the only other person I know who asks as many questions as I do.”</p><p>“Is that a compliment?”</p><p>Hermione smiled, “Yes! You’re <em>different</em>, you’re driven by knowledge and because of this - you can’t help but think beyond blood status.”</p><p>A surge of discomfort shot up Regulus’s spine.</p><p>“You know...I think you’re incredibly brave. But if that makes you uncomfortable… you <em>could</em>just be satisfying your curiosity and following a girl who offered to show you magic...” She turned towards him once more and their eyes locked. Pools of amber evaluated him with an intensity he had never experienced before. </p><p>He tentatively changed the subject. “Do you know what this Sabbat is about? The importance of the Holly and the Oak Kings?” </p><p>Hermione rolled her eyes in exasperation. Before he could justify his question however, Hermione turned, rolled up her sleeves and raised both hands. She silently began to move them with dance-like grace forming unfamiliar shapes. Regulus watched in initial confusion and then suddenly it dawned on him. Hermione was silently and wandlessly summoning and manipulating elemental magic. <em>No, not summoning</em>, he thought. <em>She is conducting and the elements are responding like musicians within her orchestra.</em>As the magic continued to ebb and flow under Hermione's guide, she began to recite a familiar lesson, instantly recognisable. </p><p>“Litha, also known as the Summer Solstice, is celebrated during Midsummer. The date of Litha usually falls on the Twenty First of June. It is the time of year in which we have arrived at both the longest day and the shortest night. It is the peak of the Solar year and the sun is at the height of its life-giving power. We recognise and celebrate that the goddess is pregnant with child and that the sun god is at the height of his virility. We recognise this because the Earth is awash with both fertility and fulfilment. Litha is a time of joy and celebration, of expansiveness, a time to celebrate one’s achievements.”</p><p>Regulus blinked in astonishment. Surely, this could not be real…</p><p>In front of him stood an enormous blazing bonfire. It radiated heat and yet the flames before him were <em>blue</em>. Hermione’s movements became smaller, softer and gentler and the fire began to smoulder and settle in response to her movements. The flames flickered and danced like bluebells amidst a summer breeze. Regulus was mesmerised as he watched the bonfire burn whilst concentrating on Hermione’s voice. </p><p>“As the light reaches its peak, this is also the moment when the power of the sun begins to wane. Whilst we celebrate the light, there is also a whisper and promise of a return to the dark. From now on the days grow shorter and thus the nights grow longer. We are drawn back into the dark in order to complete the Wheel of the Year.”</p><p>Regulus smiled at Hermione in appreciation. Suddenly inspired by her retelling of Litha, Regulus raised his wand silently and confidently beside her. He began to conjure a bonfire of his own. “And the two kings?” Regulus prompted.  </p><p>“Ah, yes,” said Hermione who seemed momentarily mesmerised by the flickering of white flames. “There are those who describe and tell stories of a ‘battle’ between two kings in which light and dark ‘fight’ for victory and ultimate power… I don’t subscribe to that theory. I believe that the sun god is the embodiment of both kings. As Oak King, he is rich in abundance…but as the seasons change, he must relinquish his reign to his brother twin, the Holly King, and thus the descent into winter months begin. It is important to remember that we celebrate Litha because we must <em>embrace</em>the good days before the darker days arrive. If we don’t celebrate and acknowledge our abundance, our fertility, and our success...then the darker days become even more bleak and unbearable. There <em>must</em>be balance — it is the way of nature.”</p><p>Regulus and Hermione stood side by side, fixated on their twin bonfires. The one in front of Regulus was alight with spirited, scorching white flames, whilst the other in front of Hermione continued to smoulder more gently, as if humming in contentment.  </p><p>“Hermione, did you just recite a majority of the text residing in my library? <em>The Wheel of The Year: An Encyclopaedia of Sabbats, Symbolism and Embodying the Craft</em>?”</p><p>She laughed and to Regulus’s surprise it sounded both beautiful and slightly embarrassed. “Some say that I tend to sound like I’ve regurgitated a textbook...”</p><p>“You don’t. In all my years of study, not one tutor ever demonstrated the passion you have for learning.”</p><p>Hermione’s cheeks flushed a very becoming shade of pink. “No one has ever said something so lovely to me...I want you to know that I feel both honoured and privileged to share this moment with you. I’ve never seen such beautiful white flames before – they remind me of the brightest starlight. It’s as if you have embodied the name of the constellation from which you were born.”</p><p>Before Regulus realised what he was doing, he had reached out and clasped Hermione’s hand. She squeezed it back, a sure sign of affection. </p><p>“I feel honoured and privileged to share this moment with you too. Hermione, might I share some knowledge of my own with you?”</p><p>She turned and smiled at him, “Yes, please do.”</p><p>“The flames you conjured, they remind me of bluebells. It is often known that the flower is a symbol of gratitude and humility. Are you aware that they also symbolise constancy and everlasting love?”</p><p>He listened to her inhale a sudden breath, then squeezed her hand when Hermione’s expression turned solemn.  </p><p>“Regulus, answer me truthfully – will you proceed with your family’s traditions? Will you consent to marry your appointed bride?”</p><p>Regulus took a deep breath before he vulnerably declared, “I swear truthfully to you that I cannot.”</p><p>Hermione said nothing, though he noticed she was starting to tremble. </p><p>Regulus ensured he held both of Hermione’s hands before continuing. “How could I possibly submit to my family's choice… when the <em>purest</em>witch I have ever met, stands before me now?”</p><p>Regulus startled as Hermione’s bright blue flames shot up into the sky. They were twice as high and twice as fierce, burning with an intensity and enthusiasm that had him lifting both brows in amusement.</p><p>“Oh noooo…I’m <em>sorry</em>. This is absolutely — my magic, umm… it’s my emotions, you see they’re inter— "</p><p>Regulus kissed her then, boldly and with reckless abandon. Surely this was the only solution, the only way to stop such sweet and silly babbling. <em>Yes</em>, he thought. <em>This is a wonderful way to keep her mouth occupied</em>.</p><p>He wasn’t sure whether time had stopped once his lips pressed against hers, but a smouldering passion ignited between them and only intensified as she kissed him back. His arms wrapped around her waist, cinching her to him. His senses heightened further as he heard Hermione release a breathy moan and he quickly opened his mouth to capture the sound. When his tongue gently caressed hers for the first time, it was as if Regulus was set ablaze. Their kiss slowed like honey and their lips gently parted ways yet neither attempted to part from the other. Regulus gently grazed his nose against Hermione’s and his eyes fluttered open at the sound of her joyful laugh. Her laughter was sweet and light. The sound reminded him of bells. <em>Like her magic</em>, he thought. Regulus studied her face, her swollen lips, her dishevelled hair and eyes that sparkled alight with a new-found knowledge. She looked radiant.</p><p>“I enjoyed that,” she boldly confessed. “Can we do it again?”</p><p>There was a loud boom and both Regulus and Hermione tilted their heads up towards the sky. It was awash with fireworks and the sun was rapidly approaching its descent. </p><p>“Do you have to go back?” Her voice sounded small.</p><p>“I don’t want to,” Regulus sighed, already feeling the weight of oppression and suffocation. “No.” He decided with sudden finality. “I’m not going back. Not unless <em>you</em>need to…do you?”</p><p>Hermione rolled her eyes but she couldn’t hide her smile and he laughed. </p><p>“Oh, yes I must dash. The lords and ladies will surely perish without me to —” </p><p>He kissed her again. He couldn’t help himself. It was his new favourite way to keep her from running her incredibly smart mouth.</p><p>They broke apart and she entwined their fingers. “Come on, let’s go!”</p><p>Together they ran, hand in hand, between their blazing bonfires and away from the Black Estate. </p><p>Together they made their escape.</p><p> </p><p> ----FIN----</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello all!</p><p>I signed up for the Directors Cut for Tag(line), meaning I chose to spin that Wheel of Doom and was assigned the following:</p><p>Film: Ever After: A Cinderella Story<br/>Tagline: Deny. Desire. Escape.<br/>Assigned Character: Regulus Black<br/>Character of my choice: Hermione Granger.</p><p>Let's get this out of the way first:</p><p>***DISCLAIMER***<br/>If you recognise anything from The Harry Potter Series OR Ever After: A Cinderella Story - you got me! It's not mine. JKR is the owner of Harry Potter AND the Ever After screenplay is written by Susannah Grant, Andy Tennant and Rick Parks WHO BASED *THEIR* FILM on Cinderella by Charles Perrault. *Phew!*</p><p>Special thanks and gratitude to my incredible Beta Caitlin Cheri for helping me perfect this to the best of my abilities. Any mistakes you notice are mine.</p><p>Special thanks and gratitude to the amazing Tagline Admin Team! You are all just SO incredible!</p><p>This fic is dedicated to the amazing members of Sweet Circe (18+).</p></blockquote></div></div>
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